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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991007">believe you will see a better day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedgalaxies/pseuds/friedgalaxies'>friedgalaxies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Castlevania (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Out, M/M, Pre-Slash, Trans Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:46:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/friedgalaxies/pseuds/friedgalaxies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s something odd about the way Alucard looks at him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>believe you will see a better day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s something odd about the way Alucard looks at him.</p>
<p>There’s something off, the way his golden irises shift to the periphery of his narrowed eyes as he holds a book high enough to his chest to pretend to be reading it, head tilted just so that his long, flaxen hair might be a shield to his gaze.</p>
<p>But Trevor hasn’t stayed alive this long, alone, by being imperceptive. And he sees the way that damned half-vampire looks at him like a piece of meat on a hook, waiting to be sunk into with a sharp butcher’s knife. Or maybe just plain teeth.</p>
<p>Trevor sits a considerable distance away, nearly half a long bookshelf, carefully cleaning, shining an intricately engraved dagger with a tin of silver polish and an old rag stained more black than the original blue. Like a bruise. A host of other sharp implements lay across the table before him; a few spare shortswords, a rapier that he never learned how to use, a nice broadsword that’s just a little too heavy for his fighting style, and a second dagger, though this one is curved and fat at the end like a miniature falchion.</p>
<p>He feels Alucard’s golden eyes on him, boring a hole through his skull and deep into his brain, like he’s inspecting the inner workings to see if the last remaining Belmont does, indeed, think. Trevor grit his teeth, capping off the tin of silver polish so it doesn’t dry out- it’s his last one- and sliding it across the table like one might a stack of poker chips, leaning back in his chair to allow ample space to swing his feet up, ankles crossed at the only open corner of the table.</p>
<p>“I’ll bite-” the irony doesn’t escape him, and it clearly doesn’t escape Alucard either from the way his jaw tightens, though that might just be from the smirk painting its way across Trevor’s mouth. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like I’m some kinda show pig? I catch your eye, huh, <em>Alucard?</em>”</p>
<p>He lets the name drip from between his teeth the same way Alucard has said his family name this entire time, like cherry wine that never aged right and spilled out the spigot a mess of sour cherry with a light skin of mildew.</p>
<p>“I was doing nothing of the sort,” Alucard retorts, even though he walks closer, snapping the book closed in time with the sharp clack of his heeled boots against the floor. “I’ve simply been researching, something you might find interesting, if you were as invested in the continued existence of humanity as you so claim.”</p>
<p>Trevor’s teeth grit in return, head lolling back in a false show of laxity, arms rising to cross behind his head with a resounding crack of his left shoulder joint that made Alucard’s nose wrinkle and Trevor grin.</p>
<p>“Of course, that’d mean you wouldn’t be there to make anymore little Belmonts to run around underfoot, would you?” Alucard glanced down at the broad oak table, dancing two long, unmarred fingers across the tabletop, narrowly avoiding the wicked sharp edges of consecrated blades.</p>
<p>“And the fuck d’you mean by that, vampire?” Trevor forewent his lax position, swinging his legs off of the table, hard soled boots that had tracked many more miles than Alucard had seen in his entire life hitting the floor with an enigmatic thud. Alucard shrugged, like they were debating something as simple as what to have for dinner, a devilish smile curling the corner of his thin mouth, like someone had taken a knife and carved it directly into his face. Half of a fang flashed in the low oil lamp light of the hold, set carefully atop the ends of every other long bookshelf.</p>
<p>“Dhampir, really- unless you’re not man enough….” Alucard continued to walk his fingers across the table unassumingly, lifting a retractable claw to graze ever so lightly along the runes carved into a blade. Trevor growled, really, truly growled, like the beasts he’d slain with bare hands and whip and short sword over the stacking years had stored their death cries within the cage of his ribs, finally burbling up in this moment of frustration and injustice. He grabbed Alucard’s slender fingers in his own calloused hand, marked with as many scars as he had years, Alucard’s feline claw grazing over consecrated silver with a metallic whine.</p>
<p>“Unhand me-” he hissed, though he made no move to wrench himself free of Trevor’s grip, as Trevor knew he very well could, what with his superior vampiric strength and all. Damn vampire. Dhampir. Whatever.</p>
<p>“Or what, you’ll go pokin’ around my weapons again? The hell’s the matter with you, y’fuckin’ ingrate?” Trevor sneered, grip tightening on the slender fingers gripped betwixt his own. Fine, thin, pianist fingers, free of scarring and callus, unlike his; short and stubby, nails chewed down to stubs from boredom and something, anything to do to quell the furious rushing of blood in his ears when he woke with the burn of smoke in his lungs and Sonia’s death whimpers petering off into silence even as the forest peddled in her silent night song around him.</p>
<p>Whatever. Sonia wouldn’t like the person he’d grown into, much less the man he’d become. Now wasn’t the time to think about her, lest he be wracked with fear and go catatonic. Fangs didn’t need any more oil that was the biting remarks he used to stir the fire within Trevor, in his twisting gut and aching bones, joints greased with slick black ash like a clockwork machine.</p>
<p>“You could say I’m quite perceptive,” Alucard offered, expression smoothing into one of a cat that had just crested the counter where his humans kept the clotted cream, eyes flicking down, down, downwards to slide down the front of Trevor’s body like slick palms running over his very skin, red hot and oily. Trevor shuddered, nose twitching, unable to keep from glancing down himself.</p>
<p>“And what’ve you perceived, Fangs?”</p>
<p>The corners of Alucard’s pale mouth curled in a cheshire way, the barest hint of pale pink gum peeking through, light from lack of blood. Almost like a dead body.</p>
<p>Freshly dead. Important distinction.</p>
<p>“You’re quite unlike any other man I’ve ever met- aren’t you?” Alucard curled his fingers from where they were gripped in Trevor’s hand, which had gone near slack with shock, jerking him upwards with a strength that he shouldn’t have had in his slender, elegant frame. The muscles that had been torn asunder and never knit together quite right beneath Trevor’s scar ached in an uncomfortable way, like he was being put under a microscope. His vision was untrustworthy this close, foggy at best in his left, depth perception reduced drastically. There was a reason he fought at a distance.</p>
<p>“I’m quite unlike a lot of men. I’m quite unlike yourself, unless there’s somethin’ you’re withholdin’. Bringin’ me this close so you can whisper a secret? Or have you finally decided to give in to your vampiric nature an’ suck me dry?”</p>
<p>Alucard snorted, and damn him if he still didn’t look good, even as his alabaster skin wrinkled around the corners of his catlike nose, staring down at Trevor with half lidded eyes, irises a warm, sleepy gold tinged with the barest hints of hungry red. Those gold eyes that tracked him just so, flowing to track his movements like honey dripping horizontally across his face, half hidden beneath long, pale eyelashes like heavy drapes, just as ornate and decadent as those that had caught fire so quickly in the sitting room of Trevor’s childhood home.</p>
<p>“Not in your wildest of dreams, nor my most torturous of nightmares. No, I believe this is something we share in common.” Alucard purred. Quick as the strike of a brush-hidden viper, he flipped his hand so it was entwined around Trevor’s wrist, a manacle of slender fingers and the barest hint of dangerously sharp claws. They wavered between retracted and unsheathed, like a kitten flexing its paws on a fresh kill, just learning the very edges of its skill set. Though Alucard was much more experienced than that of a young cat, knew how to work his prey from every angle and drip them dry, whether it be biting remarks making fury run hot down their skin or ruby red blood from the prick of fangs against flesh.</p>
<p>Alucard jerked at his arm, near making Trevor knock his forehead into the other man’s chin, as his tightly coiled muscles hadn’t any give, even as Trevor’s jaw went slack with shock as Alucard laid his stolen palm on his own chest. A sour grin spread across his face.</p>
<p>Trevor had been with many a man in his time, seen them naked as the day they were born, stripped bare and laid with heaving chests and red faces in off-white sheets above the raucous din of the tavern floor below. He’d felt just as many men with his own hands, whether they be threaded in their hair to tug and pull or sliding across sweat slicked flesh.</p>
<p>He hadn’t, however, ever felt the chest of a man that had quite the same give as his own, fat above layers of ropey muscle, a telltale buoyancy Trevor worked so hard to hide beneath layers upon layers of fabric and fur, whether it bore his family crest or hid it.</p>
<p>“You’re-” Trevor breathed, palm still pressed flat to Alucard’s chest, fingers curling against the gentle swell beneath Alucard’s loose white tunic. He was sure if he only glanced down he’d be able to see the evidence with his very own eyes instead of staring at Alucard’s half-anxious eyes, expression waiting to sour into one of mutual disgust should Trevor express any of his own.</p>
<p>Despite all the thoughts racing through his head, clobbering at the side of his skull, drumming their figmental fingers against his rocketing pulse, the only thing Trevor was able to eek out of his fool-slack mouth was, “does Sypha know?”</p>
<p>Alucard huffed and looked away, finally relinquishing his grip on Trevor’s wrist, though he made little move to change position, bent near in half at the waist as he was, perched on the edge of the old oak table. A stray flaxen curl tickled at the side of Trevor’s neck with the movement.</p>
<p>“Of course she knows. Some of us aren’t so ashamed of our forms as to demand they bathe downstream as others.”</p>
<p>“Well excuse me, but th’ public at large hasn’t exactly been accepting of my condition,” Trevor huffed in return, even as the hot red of relief and shame drained through his veins, the hot oil of embarrassment warming him from crown to where it pooled in the soles of his shoes.</p>
<p>Alucard rolled his eyes, sitting up with a posture even stiffer than usual, as if he were trying to prove something to Trevor through posturing.</p>
<p>“Have you not been a hunted man your entire life? What does one more sin in the eyes of the church add to your prosecution?” he mused, inspecting the beds of his claws like a weaponsmith might examine a fine knife, with great care and admiration of the craftsmanship. It made Trevor’s nerves sing uneasily, a kind of tense lightness in his stomach even as he remained falsely relaxed. A possum playing dead to get the predator to go away, or a snake hunkering down in the leaf litter of an autumn forest, waiting for its moment to strike.</p>
<p>“You consider it a sin?” Trevor asked instead, knowing well enough that the man before him— as he was as much a man as Trevor was, even with their anatomy as different as it was the same— had come not from a religious background as Trevor himself had but instead one entrenched in the sciences of man and vampire. Trevor couldn’t fathom that the Dracula would find his own son abhorrent through a mistake not of his own creation, instead something attributed to a higher power that may or may not have existed, or even just the biological tides of human creation, but Trevor also had a hard time understanding Dracula as a man of sciences. It had been no secret in his family that Dracula held as many secrets of sciences and maths long forgotten before their current time, but Trevor himself had never been one to sit and study, to say the least. The fact that he knew his family bestiary from cover to cover, including every scrawled note and added page, was an exception to this rule.</p>
<p>“I know you consider it a sin, Belmont. Or have I made a mistake in assumptions about the great Belmonts, who drew their greatest power from the words of G-d?” Alucard returned, gaze sliding cooly across the room to lock with Trevor’s own. He swallowed, audibly, falling back into his seat with a creak of aged wood.</p>
<p>“There’re more than a few reasons the Belmonts were excommunicated from the church, y’know.” He let the implications hang like so much gauzy fabric hung on the washing line to dry between them, just shield enough that Alucard couldn’t see his true intentions through it. Alucard, unfortunately, had never been one to leave well enough alone, and the lacy gauze between them came shredded down like the time one of the barn cats had taken to sharpening her claws on Eleanor Belmont’s good petticoats. Many people knew the Belmont women were to be feared when slighted, but this knowledge did not extend to the cats that seemed it their life’s mission to give Trevor’s mother eternal grievances.</p>
<p>Alucard hummed. “And do you consider it a sin?” he asked instead.</p>
<p>Trevor screwed his eyes shut and ran a hand down his weathered face, sighing. “No. I can’t say I do.”</p>
<p>“And neither do I. This is one of the few things I will not fault you for, Belmont. Comfort yourself with that fact.”</p>
<p>Trevor could only watch as Alucard slid down from the table’s edge with all the liquid grace of a cat, sauntering off to retrieve his book and continue the research Trevor spent hours working on in the dead of night, unbeknownst to his two travelling companions. Though, he had a feeling, there was a lot more Alucard knew about him than he was letting on. It almost scared him, if Trevor knew himself still capable of anything but dread.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>uhhhh all i have to say is that all of the main trio are trans. thank u for reading please leave all questions comments and concerns in the comments!!! i hope everyone is staying safe &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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